


Fallen Angel

by roseweber



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demonic Possession, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-29
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-12-09 23:16:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/779084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseweber/pseuds/roseweber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean, Sam, and Cas have to deal with a new demon. No particular season, I'm only on season two, don't kill me if it doesn't go with other seasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fallen Angel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Queenofwords](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofwords/gifts).



Dean did not enjoy praying. Especially not to Cas. He was a friend, not some distant angel to worship and revere. He wore a trench coat, for Christ’s sake. Even Lucifer commanded some sort of fear while in a vessel, but Cas just was Cas. He seemed human, almost. Which made it all the harder to hold him higher than Dean himself.  
But he had pulled Dean from Hell. So he did deserve a little praise, or something like that. Dean sighed, and started his prayer in what he hoped was a mocking tone.  
“Now I lay be down to sleep, I pray to Castiel to get his feathery ass down here.” He paused, his mouth curled up on one side in a smirk, almost expecting Cas to appear out of nowhere as he spoke, even though the angel was probably too busy with the civil war up in Heaven to pay attention to him. After a moment, Dean recollected himself, and continued in a much more serious tone, “Come on, Cas. We have a problem here. You didn’t tell us about the new red-eyed wonder. Hell, we would be able to deal with a Crossroads demon. But Adeline? No way. She’s got to be just as high a ranking as that Yellow-Eyed demon, maybe higher. Dude, she destroyed Azazel, kicked him right back into Hell. And she’s taken possession of a little girl. We can’t-“  
He could almost feel Cas’s awkward silent stare from across the room. “’Bout time,” Dean grumbled, “Sam’s been praying to you for days.” Cas just stared blankly at him. In his customary suit and tie, he looked the Holy Tax Accountant part to a tee. His eyes wandered disinterestedly past Dean and over to the table laden with papers covered in scribbled notes, grainy cell phone pictures of Adeline’s host, Dean’s research, and his father’s journal spread open to the page on killing demons. Dean got up from his seat on the edge of the bed, watching Cas’s face as he crossed the room to the books and papers. The angel’s brow furrowed as he looked over the readings and pictures.  
“She’s a new one,” Cas muttered, “I’ve never seen a demon quite like her before. She must be one of the highest up, in league with Lucifer, even. She’s about four months old, I’d say.”  
“Four months?!” Dean spluttered. “No one gets up that far in four months. Crowley said it took him forever.”  
“Well this girl,” Cas replied calmly, “Is good. Really good, actually. Almost nothing will kill her. We will have to be really careful about dealing with her. Actually, did you ever know an Adeline?”  
“Nope.”  
“I think she was a hunter. I would say she was about fourteen when she died, must have tortured Azazel to rise so high so fast-“  
“Wait,” Dean interrupted, “Whoa, whoa, whoa. She’s fourteen? And she successfully tortured Azazel? Father of demon children, right hand man to Lucifer? That just doesn’t happen. You sure you have that age right?”  
“I’m positive. She’s a couple weeks into fifteen, at the most. You sure you don’t know her?”  
“I have heard of a young hunter, but she was going by A. I didn’t know her real name. She was ambitious, almost deceitful. Started a bar fight once or twice; just to look powerful. Nice girl.”  
“I remember rumors floating around Ellen’s bar that she made a pact to become the best demon hunter in history with a crossroads demon. You would think they wouldn’t have granted the request, but I guess they just want another soul for Lucifer. Any soul is fair game.” Cas looked at the picture of the demon’s host thoughtfully. “I have the power to banish her, but are you sure you want me to get involved? Raphael’s angels will trace the burst of angelic power and intercept me. I could put both you and Sam at risk. I shouldn’t even have left Heaven unattended to help you.”  
Dean strode over to the table, catching Castiel’s eye from across the sea of papers. “We need your help,” he said quietly, “She’s too much. The angels don’t matter to us. We’ll deal with them, but we first need to get this girl off of the streets.” Castiel nodded stiffly and bent back over the maps, gathering as much information as he could in such a short period of time. Both men looked at the door in fear as the sound of shuffling feet whispered from behind the door, until it clicked open, letting Sam stagger in with his arms full of take out.  
“No, I’m fine, thanks for offering your- ‘Bout time,” Sam said as he let the food fall onto one of the beds, strode across the room in two steps, and swung his fist, letting it connect squarely with Cas’s jaw. Or, it would have connected, if Cas hadn’t zapped backwards at the last second. “Where have you been?” He continued, “I’ve been praying to you for days.” Dean stepped carefully away from the boys and sat back down on the edge of his bed. At this rate, this wasn’t going to end well, at least, for Cas.  
Cas tried to hold up his hands in a placating gesture. “Look, there’s a civil war up there. I can’t pop down whenever. Dean mentioned the whole Azazel business, and I realized this might be a bit of a problem. I didn’t think the demon was that dangerous.”  
Sam was affronted. “You thought I’d call you on something so minor? We aren’t helpless, Cas, we can usually deal with a demon on our own.”  
“Lay off,” Dean interrupted their tiff. “You’re just jealous he likes me more, Sam. We need to kill the demon before we kill each other.” Sam glared at Dean a moment, then begrudgingly plopped down on the couch. Dean leaned back against the headboard of his bed, smirking. “Much better. Now, we need to figure out how trap her and ward off this motel room properly. Azazel could walk right in, so we have to assume she can, too.”  
“Got that right.” A silver voice, giggly and young, laughed into the silence. All three men leaped upright at the sight of the demon, Adeline, leaning casually against the doorframe, which had been warded just a moment before, and wiggled her fingers at the boys. “Hey, Dean,” she said, “hey, Sam.” She had her shoulder length blonde-brown hair tucked behind her ears, revealing smiling blue eyes, a small nose, and an easy smile. Her host looked young, fourteen at the most, and short on top of that. For a long moment, the boys stared in shock at her relaxed stance against the door. With a bored sigh, she flicked her fingers, and Sam flew through the air, his head catching the desk. He slumped to the floor, unconscious. Dean fumbled for his gun, hoping that the rock salt in the bullets would at least inconvenience her. With a snap of her fingers, the gun flew across the room and turned; soaring back at him, handle first, connecting with his jaw with a sickening crack. Pain blossomed in Dean’s eyes and he dropped heavily to the floor.  
“Tsk, tsk,” Adeline said as she strode over to where Cas was standing, guarded, but confused, “You are getting sloppy, boys.”  
“Anyway, Castiel,” she purred in a sadistic voice unlike any fifteen year old Dean had ever heard, “the littlest angel. Taking on his older brother and most of the heavenly host. How does it feel to know that you are going to die here, instead of in heaven, fighting valiantly?”  
Cas glared at her defiantly. “I’m not dying here.”  
Adeline raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Liar.” A blade sprang out of Castiel’s chest. His eyes seemed to widen in slow motion as blood bloomed across his white button down. “An angelic blade,” Adeline said wonderingly, “odd you let such evil things as me hold such powerful things as this.” She twisted the sword viciously, and Castiel cried out in agony.  
“No,” Dean whispers, “no, no, no, no, Cas.” Castiel’s eyes met Dean’s for a moment, and he struggled to form words, but he couldn’t muster the strength in time. Light seemed to leak out of Castiel’s eyes, nose, and mouth as he bled from his vessel. In a blinding flash that made Dean’s head hurt worse than ever before, Cas was gone, his body lifeless. The only thing left where he once stood was the shadow of two wings stretched etched into the floor on either side of his body, the sign of an angel’s death. Adeline smirked and turned to leave, leaving the sword sticking out of what had been Cas’s chest as she closed the door behind her. Dean didn’t care anymore. He pulled himself over to where Cas’s vessel, Cas’s body, lay, and cradled his head. They’d been each other’s rocks, keeping the other from faltering. Cas had flown him out of Hell and he had helped Cas deal with a myriad of biblical plagues. And now Cas was gone. Dean bent over Castiel’s cold head and let himself sob over his fallen angel.


End file.
